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Nature, Sex, and Bluntness:
A Look at the Haiku of Michael McClintock
Since the beginning of the Global Haiku class, I have looked
for a haiku author that has genuinely interested me. Typically,
I found the American haiku authors to be the easiest to relate
to in terms of their writing and styles. In The
Haiku Anthology, edited by Cor Van Den Heuvel, I found
such authors. I particularly liked the haiku of Eric Amann,
L.A. Davidson, Bernard Lionel Einbond, Alan Pizzarelli, and
Michael McClintock. Each of these poets wrote about situations,
people, images or ideas that I could relate to on various
levels.
When it came time to choose a contemporary author, I looked
at the work of each of these writers in search of one that
I would enjoy writing about in greater detail. Michael McClintock’s
work stuck out like a sore thumb, to use the rather tired
cliché. His honesty and bluntness, use of sensuality,
and beautification of nature impressed me and I wanted to
know more about him.
Luckily, I had the ability to contact him through e-mail
to ask him direct questions (that e-mail interview is available
at this web site's profile on McClintock). Though I encountered
some difficulties while working on this author study, such
as the fact that his three collections of haiku are out of
print and the collections that his work appears in are arduous
to locate, I had the ability to use my e-mail interview with
McClintock and his work in The Haiku
Anthology, as my primary sources for information.
Upon revisiting his haiku, I discovered that my interest
in his use of sex, honesty, and nature still intrigued me.
What follows is the analysis of that haiku.
she leaves–
warm pillow scent
remaining
(The Haiku Anthology
116)
I begin with this specific haiku of McClintock’s because
it was the first of his poems that I fell in love with. That
is to say that upon first reading, it touched me unlike any
other haiku I have read this semester. This haiku has a very
warm, sensual quality. Even though the mystery woman leaves,
her scent lingers behind. She peeks my curiosity; I want to
know why she is leaving and also, why she wears a "warm
pillow scent." That phrase is very intriguing. I can
more vividly smell this haiku than see it. But what does a
"warm pillow scent" smell like exactly. My first
impression is that this is a scene after a one-night stand.
The woman is leaving, not staying the night, and she still
smells like sex. The lingering smell of sex, that’s the
"warm pillow scent." She has physically left behind
the bed, pillows, and sheets, but the smell of her perfume
and sweat remains in the room. That description would also
explain why the bed is still warm. The dash (–) works
very effectively. It gives the haiku a pause, a break in thinking;
we (as readers) ponder her departure. The space before the
second line also adds to the pause. The remaining two lines
are then read slowly, as if we ourselves, in addition to the
remaining partner, are taking in her lingering scent. This
haiku is one or McClintock’s more sensual poems.
However, it is not the only haiku in which McClintock enters
into the realm of sensuality. The following haiku seems to
take sensuality a step further (if possible):
letting my tongue
deeper into the cool
ripe tomato
(The Haiku Anthology
115)
Sensuality surrounds the whole image of this haiku. The words
that McClintock uses, cause the reader to slow down when reading.
In doing so, reader savors each word. Words like, tongue,
deeper, cool, and tomato cannot be said fast, the words themselves
are designed to be said more slowly. This slowness creates
the sensuality present in the haiku. Once again, McClintock
places spaces before the second line and then a double space
before the third. This spacing also adds to the pausing effect
in the haiku. The image of a tongue penetrating the tomato
provokes sexual and sensual connotations as well. I must pose
the question: is he really talking about a tomato? Maybe he
is, maybe he is not. Even if I had asked him, which I unfortunately
did not, I cannot be sure that he would tell me the truth.
There is definitely more to this haiku than a person eating
a tomato. I believe this notion is clearly demonstrated through
McClintock’s word choice. He specifically uses words
that can have an erotic connotation. He did, after all, have
a haiku or two included in the collection, Erotic
Haiku, edited by Rod Willmot. That information would
lead me to believe that McClintock is indeed talking about
more than a eating a tomato.
McClintock takes this sensuality yet another step forward.
In the following haiku, he does more than merely suggest a
sexual/sensual connotation, he openly and honestly expresses
what is taking place:
while we wait
to do it again,
the rains of spring
(The Haiku Anthology
116)
What I most enjoy about this haiku is that the average reader,
meaning a typically non-haiku-reading reader, will read this
poem and immediately give it a sexual connotation. I must
admit that I too gave it that connotation upon my first reading.
But after looking at it further, I do not believe that it
is necessarily only about sex. It can be about anything—just
a period of waiting. It does not have to be about sex.
However, in the case of this haiku, the phrase "do it"
most likely refers to sex. But I like the honesty of the haiku
(if it is indeed about sex). Word choice is the key factor
in the honesty and bluntness. McClintock uses the phrase "do
it" which suggests sex, in the mind of younger readers.
But it also allows for something else all together. That phrase
is ambiguous. "Do it" does not mean sex, though
any nine year old will laugh when that phrase is said out
loud.
Beyond being blunt, the last line suggests a kind of comfort
and romantic feel. He hears the springtime rain giving the
haiku an earthy quality, connecting himself, his partner,
and their act of love, to nature. In the example of this haiku,
McClintock perfectly blends sex, nature, and bluntness. The
combination of bluntness and romanticism works well, as does
the comma at the end of the second line. Yet again, McClintock
creates a pause in his haiku, this time with a comma. The
comma leaves the reader pondering the meaning behind the "controversial"
phrase "do it again," making the reader wait (as
the lovers wait in the poem). Once again, the pausing works
nicely in the haiku.
Contrary to the comma or the dash but similar in use, McClintock
also uses ellipses in this haiku to create a pause:
dead cat. . .
open-mouthed
to the pouring rain
(The Haiku Anthology
121)
McClintock pauses the haiku after the first two words, giving
the reader a moment to take-in the idea that he is going to
talk about a dead cat. The pause allows the reader a few seconds
to ponder their own images and interpretations of the dead
cat. Then, McClintock adds the unforgettable image of the
open mouth in the pouring rain. It is, at first, rather disturbing.
Nevertheless, the bluntness of this haiku is refreshing.
As a society, we like to have everything nice, and neat, and
pretty, particularly our poetics. But life isn’t pretty.
The very existence of life means that there is a counterpart,
death. This haiku explores death in a very blunt and honest
way. I can vividly picture this dead cat. It lays in a gutter
on a lonely street, muddied and wet (obviously) on its back,
leaving the reader puzzled as to how it died. I want to know
why no one but this author notices the dead cat in the street
and why he decided that this cat was worth writing about.
That is the charm of this haiku, that McClintock actually
took the time out of his busy day to notice this poor, helpless,
dead cat. I had the ability to ask McClintock about the bluntness
and honesty of this particular haiku:
I want to see things as they are, not always as I would
wish them to be. That is easy to say, but often hard to
do.
I want to work in both ends of the spectrum, to write about
what I find, too, between the extremes of beauty and ugliness.
I think that is where most of us live our lives; there’s
no sense
in pretending otherwise. And I don’t have to go looking
for it;
it comes to me, whether I want it to or not.
(E-mail interview April 2001)
He tends to look at the darker side of life that the rest
of us like to push aside. But this haiku is "in your
face," so to speak, and forces the reader to look at
reality. Life can’t always paint a pretty little ideal
picture.
Though life is not always pretty, most poetry is rather beautiful
or has the power to beautify. In the last two haiku, McClintock
brought natural images ("the rains of spring" and
"pouring rain") to situations that though thought
of as natural occurrences, seem to have a more ethereal feel
to them. The references to nature do not seem out of place,
but rather unique to those haiku. Although that is the case
with those two exact haiku, it is certainly not so with the
following:
rowing downstream
red leaves swirling
behind me
(The Haiku Anthology
119)
This haiku presents a clear image of a natural setting, while
still leaving details to the reader’s imagination. For
example, when I first read this haiku, I envisioned a man
in a canoe, a Native American "rowing downstream."
It is late fall, that is why the leaves are red. The river
is full of leaves, brown, red, and yellow, but it is only
the red leaves that choose to follow the man downstream. There
may be something symbolic about the red leaves. Perhaps the
redness of the leaves is representative of blood, or blood
in the water. Perhaps the leaves are just red because of the
season. In either scenario, McClintock offers intense imagery
in this haiku. And in a slightly different style of format,
he again uses spacing as a pausing effect. The pause between
"red leaves" and "swirling" almost makes
the haiku read as though the leaves themselves are rowing
downstream. The space before the last line, once again, fits
appropriately with the rest of the haiku. It allows the reader
a moment to pause and drink-in the whole image that McClintock
presents.
These beautiful images of nature can be seen in several more
of McClintock’s haiku. Beyond rain, he seems interested
in water and watery areas in general, such as the river water
in the last haiku or the sea in the next haiku:
twisting inland,
the sea fog takes awhile
in the apple trees
(The Haiku Anthology
116)
( also available at– http://www.gardendigest.com/air.htm)
Again, a nice clear and strong image is presented. Though
a tranquil scene, it feels somewhat ominous. The fog appears
to be beautiful to watch as it weaves through the tree, but
it seems rather eerie as well. But then, fog just seems to
have an eerie quality about it. Perhaps it is because fog
tends to linger and hover, as it is doing so in the apple
trees in this haiku. I can smell the sea-fog, as well as see
it. It smells salty and brine-like, like the sea. The whole
poem reeks of sea air and apples, two very different and distinct
smells commingling. This is a great haiku with its eerie quality,
competing smells, and lingering feel.
An eerie quality takes control in a few of McClintock’s
other haiku. He continues to use water-effects as exhibited
in the following haiku:
across the sands
the rippling quiet
cloud shadow
(The Haiku Anthology119)
This haiku is very vivid, but somewhat eerie because the
cloud’s shadow creates a rippling effect on the sand.
He does something rather unique here by using a water image
on land. I can easily see the cloud rippling over the sand
like a wave in the hot noon-day sun. The cloud creates a tranquil
feeling on this otherwise heavy scene. I suppose the sands
could be on a beach as well, but I picture a desert, blazing
with heat. In my image, the cloud helps to cool down the bogging
heat, keeping the sun hidden for a short while.
Reading this haiku makes me feel warm, almost sweaty. I feel
somewhat drained by the over-bearing heat, even though there
is no mention of sun or warm temperatures. A reader can build
their own story based upon the effective images portrayed
in this haiku as is the case in the following too:
hearing
cockroach feet;
the midnight snowfall
(The Haiku Anthology120)
I like the simplicity in this haiku. It is the little things
that seem to gain McClintock’s attention. For example,
how often do we hear cockroach feet? It is an odd sound to
imagine. What kind of sound to cockroaches make when they
walk? I imagine something light. But only based on their size.
It would have to be completely quiet for someone to hear cockroaches
walking.
The image presented here makes me envision a man sitting
alone in a big leather chair in front of a fireplace. He is
reading or writing and looks outside to notice the snow falling.
He is quiet and the fire is dying down. Beyond the crackling
of embers he can hear the cockroaches moving, their feet,
barely touching the ground. This haiku really allows the reader
to get inside of it and imagine the situation in which one
can hear cockroach feet.
That feeling, that you are being let in, remains at the forefront
of McClintock’s haiku. I believe that he enjoys sharing
his visions with his readers, inviting them to take part in
his images or situations, which is why he uses accessible
themes. McClintock’s use of sex and nature imagery is
always coupled with blunt honesty. His images are sometimes
simplified, but that assists in their appeal to his readers.
Overall, he uses these themes to paint wonderful pictures
of the different, and sometimes darker, sides of life.
—Adria Neapolitan
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